


Tenacity

by Officer_Jennie



Series: BadThingsHappenBingo [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 21:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20459483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Officer_Jennie/pseuds/Officer_Jennie
Summary: Even in defeat, his fight is never over





	Tenacity

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt 'Made a slave'

The defeat at the hands of the Gold and Silver Brothers had not been the end of Tobirama’s humiliation.

His cheek stung from where the elder brother had struck him, blood starting to drip from the crack in his lip the hit had caused. It was not the first time one of the brothers had seen fit to strike him, nor did he expect it to be the last. That made it a bit easier to keep his head turned, spitting the blood out onto the floor as it collected in his mouth.

Interrogation was not their purpose here. That had been made clear to him over the weeks he’d spent in the cell they kept him in. No questions had been asked, no demands or threats made. If information had been what they desired from him, they would have done more than be violent with him or sneer.

Violence he could handle, at least. War had taught him plenty of it since he’d first seen death at the age of three, and even peace had brought him more knowledge of how to take torture. The creation of the T&I unit had been something he’d had a hand in to say the least, despite his brother’s insistence that its existence would lend to more negatives than positives, and as such he’d studied and undergone many of the practices himself.

Learning how to not crack meant everything when one held the key to the metaphorical kingdom, and as the current hokage Tobirama held just that in his hands.

They wanted to break him in some way. It’s what he assumed, considering all the information he had access to. Break him, mock him, lord their victory over him - it was something of the sort, so he gave them none of the satisfaction that came with any of it.

He did not react. Not when they hurt him. Not when they spit insults or laughed over his weak and pitiful form, chakra stores locked away by the seals etched into the cuffs and chains they had him in. Not when they kicked the wounds they’d already left on his legs and sides and stomach and arms, barely wincing despite the intense pain that shot through his body at the contact.

They would gain no satisfaction from hurting him. Not even if they maimed him, starved him to death, left him to rot alone or suffocated him with their presence. It was the last victory he could take in this life and so he clung to it with every fiber of his deteriorating being, believing that this would be his end but determined to make it an end he could take pride in nonetheless.

As always, they grew angry at his silence first. With the anger came more violence, more pain, sometimes with blades and sometimes without. It was a well-known cycle to him by now, enough so that he could practically count down the number of inflicted wounds, knowing with each tick how close they were to this portion of their evening being over.

Five over the average that night. But still it was a close estimation; one clicked his tongue as he grunted at his younger brother, their anger subsiding to boredom as Tobirama had predicted, as their routine had told him it would. And just as they did every night (morning? Afternoon? Where he was, he couldn’t really tell night from day, only able to half judge the time by how tired or awake the brothers looked when they came around to visit) they left him to his solitude, to pick up the pieces they’d managed to hack away from his control.

It was never much. Never enough to really break into him, but it was enough to smart. He pulled himself back together slowly, hardening himself against the situation again, meditation helping as best it could. This was a battle he could win, _would_ win, and his best defense was what had often been his strongest weapon: his mind. His body could be a slave to their punishments, take the brute force of whatever cruelty they wished to rain upon him, but it was his mind that would have the final say in his end - and his end would be as strong as his life had been.

A noise in the hall broke through his meditation. His head lulled from where it had fallen against a nearby wall, eyes cracking open despite the dark giving him nothing to see. No other noises followed the first, though if he wasn’t mistaken it had been a footfall.

He hoped he was mistaken. With ragged breaths he did his best to sit up further, injuries pulling and making him wince despite himself. If there were footsteps, that meant the brothers might return. That would be a break in their routine, a change in pattern, and that was something he was not prepared for.

But the door cracked open anyway. Dim light pooling in enough for him to catch the shape of a small shadow, a form slipping in before the door clicked shut all but silently behind them.

Not the brothers. Too small, too light and quick on their feet. But Tobirama was no longer alone.

He didn’t have much time to ponder if their appearance was good or bad. They were at his side before he could, bending down to eye level, gentle fingers finding his chin to lift them up and-

-and Tobirama wanted to collapse in on himself in relief, recognizing the pattern in those red eyes as if nothing else in the world mattered more.

“You shouldn’t be here.” It’s not what his tone said. Behind the words Tobirama was in awe and more grateful than he’d ever been before. The love of his life just sighed at him, dipping down to brush their noses together before setting to work picking the locks on his binds.

“My genjutsu won’t last long.” With the cuffs of his wrists dealt with, Kagami bent to deal with the ones on his ankles, but not before pressing a tagged kunai into his hands. “The distance might kill you. Not sure you’ve ever gone that far before. But, if it doesn’t, shodaime-sama and both of his spouses are waiting for us.”

“Comforting.” His wry tone earned him an ill-humored huff. Kagami made short work of the ankle cuffs - practice made perfect, and the man had been a stealth specialist since the specialized teams had been formed - and just as the metal clacked to the floor angry shouting came from a couple rooms over.

Tobirama had known he would die fighting, and had no issues gripping the kunai tight. With Kagami at his side and the barest trickle of chakra at his disposal, finally within reach now that the suffocating binds had been removed, he grasped his love’s hand and flashed through the signs of his hiraishin with one hand and prayed that maybe this fight wouldn’t be his last.

It was a drain on his chakra like nothing else before. Without the hand firmly clasped in his own supplying him some as well, Tobirama would not have landed at the outpost conscious or even alive. As it was, he barely kept his eyes open long enough to see his brother’s scrunched up face, and it was with no small amount of relief that he let his mind slip quiet and into his dreams, knowing Kagami would be at his side whenever he was ready to wake up once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Not specifically stated in story, but Madara's shodaime and he's married to both Mito and Hashirama


End file.
